A Saintly Grey
by Ebb
Summary: Taylor Sainthorp, an American transfer student coming to Hogwarts ariving for her fifth year of magical education, full of bitter memories of her troubled past, a feeling of being absolutely alone, and deep grey eyes, catches the youngest Malfoy's eye.
1. Chapter 1

The grey eyes stared up at the empty sky that mirrored their pigment almost exactly. It was an awful day, one full of humid and cold air supporting clouds pregnant with rain that just wouldn't fall. On top of this already depressing atmosphere, there was a thick fog clinging to any horizon to which one looked, so that the tops of the rolling hills that surrounded the speeding train where barely visible. A wisp of wavy blonde hair fell into the young girl's field of vision, separating her from the heavens she found so enthralling. Her hand reached up and tucked it neatly behind her ear without her having to even command it to do so. It was quiet. Aside from the occasional squeaking of her shoes against the leather seat from her adjusting her cross-legged position every few minutes, virtually no noise could be heard. She suspected that everybody except for her was talking animatedly with old friends in their own compartments, but she couldn't hear anything from her own little cubicle, where she sat alone. Now, a few garbled words reached her ears from under the compartment door. She pulled her legs up so they were in front of her and she hugged them, resting her cheek on her left knee. It was lonely and she wished she'd gotten up the courage to speak to somebody back on the platform, before it would have been awkward to intrude on people already settled into their spots with their friends. Slowly, she drew the lower of her two full, red lips into her mouth, biting it lightly. It was a bad habit but one that she'd gotten so accustomed to that she did it unconsciously. It was so boring on that train, and so cold and lonesome. Slowly, and without notice, her eyes drifted closed and her body relaxed.

-

"Do you even _realize _what you are doing to us?" A very old aristocratic woman shrieked from a heavily-padded armchair near a lavish fireplace. The flames from the mantel created dramatic shadows across her face that made her appearance even more frightening. "You had no right! None whatsoever! Look at her! LOOK AT HER!" The elderly woman kept yelling as she pointed toward a very scared little girl with powerful grey eyes sitting in the corner of the room, shivering despite the large fire that filled the room with warmth. "SCUM! Do you hear me? Do you?!"

"How dare you?!" A man's voice enraged replied as he walked over to the child and picked her up, stroking her light blonde hair.

"How dare _I_?" The woman chuckled sarcastically. "You should be ashamed." She muttered. "What do we need another mut like _her _in the world for, anyway? We were separated for a reason!"

-

Suddenly, the girl was wide awake again, the horrid red of the fire soothed and washed out by the weak grey sunlight coming through the window. She could now hear excited chatter outside her compartment. When she focused her eyes very hard, she could start to see a large black silhouette of a castle in the distance through the twilight fog. There were bright lights illuminating most of the windows, and she could tell even from the distance the train was at that it would be warm inside. Despite her slightly sour and ostracized mood, excitement and nervousness filled her. It wasn't just that the only castle she'd ever seen in person was Buckingham Palace, and the size and majesty of this building itself filled her with awe, it was something that burned to know what was inside, wanted to become acquainted with this beautiful, mysterious place, despite the fact that she was new and didn't know anybody.

It seemed like hours before the shining train suddenly screeched to a halt, and the girl rushed out of her cubicle as soon the grounds outside of the window stopped moving, her large trunk in hand. Dozens of other students rushed by her, all in their black uniforms with badges on the front. When she saw that the students were evidently supposed to have changed, dread filled her. After standing in shock for several minutes, she ran back into her compartment, flinging open her suitcase and rummaging through all her personal belongings to try to get her uniform out. A slight feeling of regret pulled at her when she thought about the expectations she had when packing her bags, that the next time she would open them would be near her new bed, when she would have plenty of time to sort things out and get dressed at her own pace. Now, she was throwing the robes on haphazardly, hoping that nothing was being put on backwards or forgotten. By the time she'd scrambled back out of the tiny room, there were only one or two students left in the corridor. After searching for an exit for several minutes, the girl finally clambered out of the train. Outside, it was even colder than it was earlier that day, and the bitter air greeted her like a slap on the face. To make matters worse, it was now nearly pitch dark, and there was nobody on the concrete platform with the exception of an absolutely huge figure whose face she couldn't distinguish. Panic filled her as she realized she had no idea where everyone was or where to go.

The giant man was holding a lantern and bellowing "First years! Over by the lake! FIRST YEARS! Yur over by the lake! Anyone else, ya know where to go! Come on, we 'avn't got all night!"

The girl pondered whether it would be wise to approach the towering figure, but decided that she had no choice out of disparity. Timidly, she approached the man, or whatever he was.

"Um, excuse me, sir." She said in a small voice.

"FIIIIIRST YEARS!" The thing just yelled out again. After waiting several seconds and scanning the train one last time for signs of movement, the man turned around and started walking out toward the lake.

"Sir!" The girl repeated, louder now.

The giant individual turned around as though startled, then finally found the slender girl looking up at him, desperately.

"Sir, I'm sorry. I'm not a first year, but I'm new here, and I don't know where to go." She looked on the verge of tears.

"You go over to the carriages. Better hurry, though. Looks like they'll be leavin' soon." The giant man said kindly as he gestured to the left.

The girl thanked him quickly and hurried away toward the horseless carriages she could barely make out in the distance. By the time she arrived at the small area where the carriages were assembled, there was only one of the elaborately-decorated coaches left. She rushed up to it and quickly climbed in, only to be greeted by about half a dozen surprised faces staring at her.

"Sorry." She panted. "I got off the train late. Mind if I…?" She asked as she gestured toward the one empty seat left.

"Sure." Said a blonde girl that seemed to be older than her. She seemed friendly enough, and her smile was warm and inviting, so the grey-eyed girl took the seat, glad to relax after sprinting up the carriage.

"I'm Katie." The girl with the warm smile said as her new traveling companion got settled.

"I'm Taylor. Stainthorp. I'm a fifth year. I'm new." The girl replied in choppy sentences, her breath still coming in sharp bursts.

"I'm a sixth year. You're not from England, are you?" Katie asked. At that point, the carriage jolted and started to move, despite the lack of anything to propel it forward.

"America." Taylor smiled, glad to finally have somebody to speak to.

"Well, Hogwarts is a great school. You'll love it." Katie replied. "We don't get many Americans around here. Most of them go to Brobelswell, right?"

"Yes, that's where I'm transferring from. There's also the Salem School of Magic, but it's not very well respected internationally. I used to go there before Brobelswell." Taylor said. She noticed several of the other girls in the carriage smirking slightly at her when she said she used to go to Salem.

"How was Salem?" A short, pretty girl next to Katie asked in a snobby tone without even introducing herself.

"Well, I can't say I _loved _it, but I got used to it in the one year I was there and it was home to me." Taylor replied, trying to keep from lashing out at the rude teenager sitting across from her, who just deepened her smirk.

"So what brings you to Britain?" Katie asked.

Taylor shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and then cast her eyes downward. "Um, family reasons." She murmured, as the elderly woman's _"How dare you!" _echoed through her mind, sending a piercing feeling through her heart with each reverberation of the cold words. She could feel herself getting hot from all the eyes that were staring at her, wondering what could be keeping her from telling them the whole story. There was a silence in which everybody just kept looking at the poor girl. Even Katie was gazing at her curiously.

"So, Becca, I heard you met up with David Cooper quite a lot over the summer." The girl next to Taylor broke the silence.

The girl called Becca blushed slightly. "Well, I don't mean to brag…" After that, Taylor stopped paying attention and looked out the window. It was then she noticed that it was drizzling.

-


	2. Chapter 2

The dining room of the school was exquisite. When Taylor entered it, the first thing she noticed were the four long, brightly-colored tables that ran along the length of the room, each one packed with students making happy conversation. Above their heads floated dozens of lit candles, and above that, the high arched ceiling displayed the cloudy night sky. By the time she was able to tear her eyes away from the beautiful sky, the girls she'd just met, including Katie, had disappeared into the sea of other people. Taylor stood between the two center tables, unsure of what to do next. She went over to the table nearest to her, the one with yellow and black banners. The students there seemed very welcoming, smiling at her with glistening eyes or little welcoming waves. She felt at home almost instantly, the bright yellow banners hanging above her washing away any last traces of loneliness. It was comfortable with these people, even though she'd never actually met any of them.

"I'm Melanie." The girl sitting next to her said, smiling broadly at her. "You're new, right?"

"Yeah. I'm Taylor." She said, returning the smile and glad to finally have some normal contact with somebody.

"That's some accent. Are you American?" The boy to her left asked, also in a friendly tone. "I'm Jack, by the way." He added.

"Yes. I just moved here to London." Taylor replied, careful not to include the words 'with my family'.

"I've been to America on holiday, once, last year." Melanie said. "I loved it. You'll tell me about it someday?"

Taylor's smile flickered for a moment. "S-sure." She said, glancing down at her plate. Nobody noticed her lapse in cheeriness, though, and if they did, they pretended not to.

"That's wonderful." Melanie replied. At the very back of Taylor's mind, she felt a little out of place when thrown into the amount of happiness that was collected at that table. It didn't quite seem faked or forced, but the sheer concentration of naturally optimistic people made Taylor feel only the slightest bit left out, despite their friendly attitudes toward her. Suddenly, there was a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to be greeted by a round face framed by a pile of silver curls that lay casually under a large sunhat with magical plants and flowers woven into it. The face was smiling and had the same bright qualities as Jack, Melanie, and all the other children at the brightly-decorated table possessed.

"Excuse me, dear." The woman, who was crouched down to be at Taylor's level, said in a positive tone. "Are you new here?"

Taylor just gave a small smile and nodded. She wasn't in the mood to receive any welcomes, or be told to go somewhere else. She was finally among people that were genuinely nice to her, and didn't want that feeling to be disturbed.

"Well, then you need to go over there and line up with the first years. Do you know anything about the housing system here at Hogwarts?"

Taylor shook her head no.

"Well, all the students are organized into four houses. The houses, each named after a different Hogwarts founder, compete with each other to see who can gain the most points from various activities and win the House Cup at the end of the year. It is all very great fun. I do hope you end up here with us, at Hufflepuff." The woman said optimistically.

Taylor suppressed a sigh as she got up to stand in the line with the rest of the younger-looking children assembled down isle between the two center tables. After a few more moments of chatter, silence fell upon the hall when a very stern-looking woman dressed in black with a tall witch's hat approached the head of the hall. She was holding in her hands a very old, battered black hat.

"First years, gather 'round, please." She said stiffly. All the younger students obeyed almost instantly, evidently intimidated by her. When they had adjusted their position from a line-formation into a semi-circle around her, the elderly woman continued. "As many of you know…" she started a well-prepared speech about the virtuous benefits of a Hogwarts education and the welcoming and loving atmosphere of the school when Taylor stopped paying attention, gazing around the huge, beautiful hall. To anyone not as perceptive as Taylor, the children at all four tables would seem to be seated by chance, as though it was unimportant what color banner hung above them. But Taylor could see the very subtle differences between the students at each table. She started her observations at the far end of the hall, where there was a table decked out in rich green and silver. The children sitting at it looked very wealthy and refined. There was something superior and smug in their attitudes that she recognized from wizarding society in Salem School. They were chatting quietly amongst themselves, probably after years of being told to quiet down by brutal parents. Taylor didn't have to ask for any of their last names and look up their families to see that most, if not all of them, were purebloods. She shuddered slightly as thoughts of her old school swam through her mind and she turned toward the next table. Here, most of the students were talking animatedly but not too loudly under the blue and bronze banners hanging above them. The students there looked significantly less snobby than those at the green-themed table and Taylor felt a certain pull toward them. They seemed nice, but not quite as welcoming as the Hufflepuffs. Somehow, Taylor wanted the challenge of getting them to accept her. The next table over was the black and yellow one which Taylor first tried to sit on, and at the last table, one colored with scarlet and gold, students were speaking loudly yet politely to each other, most of them grinning while listening to their friends or telling their own exciting stories, gesticulating wildly. She felt a certain pull toward the excitement of that table, but at the same time was intimidated by their raucous behavior.

When she finished observing this last table, she surveyed the whole room one last time. When her eyes swept over the green table again, she caught the eye of a boy that looked to be around her age. She hadn't noticed him before, but now could tell even from her distance that he shared the grey pigment of her eyes. It was a powerful, searing moment, one that almost scared Taylor; the connection between them like two full rain clouds colliding and emitting thunder and lightning. She kept on looking at him, or rather, his eyes, for how long she didn't know before the shrill voice of the dignified red-haired woman became amplified with the importance of a new topic.

"This is the Sorting Hat, which will place each of you into the appropriate house. When I call your name, you will sit on the stool." she indicated the wooden seat next to her. Taylor looked at, baffled at how a hat could place people in the 'appropriate house'. "The Hat will be placed on your head, and you will immediately join the house to which you are assigned." There was a short pause as the woman fumbled with a list in her robes. When it was finally out in front of her, she read out in a crisp, official voice "Alicia, Acrincrot!"

A short girl in glasses approached the stool, shaking slightly, and sat down on it. The hat was placed upon her head and, to Taylor's utter surprise, yelled out "Ravenclaw!"

The students at the blue and bronze table smiled and applauded as the girl called Alicia got up and walked over to join their table.

"Jonathan, Audagris!" The woman with the list called out.

A blonde boy with red cheeks trotted up to the stool. The hat barely touched his golden curls before it yelled out "GRYFINDOR!"

The boy ran over to the red and gold table to join the hundred-odd students cheering him on loudly.

The woman kept yelling out names and children kept coming up to be placed in a house. Bored, Taylor looked over at the green table, one she found out was named Slytherin, and tried to catch the eye of the blonde boy with the grey eyes again, but he was busy talking to two very large friends of his. By the time Taylor tore her eyes away from him, there were only three students left standing with Taylor, and the woman in black was reading off the name "Samantha Winchester"

_Oh God. _She thought. _They skipped me._ Taylor tried to collect her thoughts as the last two students got called up and she kept standing there like an idiot. The old woman was about to step aside when she noticed Taylor's worried grey eyes looking up at her.

"Excuse me, Miss. Are you new here?" She asked gently.

"Yeah. I'm Taylor Sainthorp."

The woman seemed to be contemplating something for a moment before saying "All right, sit down."

Timidly, knowing that the rest of the students were watching her curiously, she approached the wooden stool and sat down. The hat, which the woman placed on her head, felt light on her blonde head. It sat very still for a long time, as though dead. Taylor started to worry and her cheeks grew pink as the various students that were staring at her started murmuring amongst themselves. Finally, she could feel the hat shift as it opened its mouth.

"Ravenclaw!" The hat called out.

-


	3. Chapter 3

_Dear Taylor,_

_It is just after sunrise in a small Greek village by the sea. I'm sitting on the roof of the home of the family hosting me, watching the sun climb steadily upward. Darling, Greece is so lovely; I hope you will have the pleasure of one day seeing it for yourself. Everything is just so peaceful that I feel truly at rest for the first time in years. Taylor, I want you to know that I miss you so much, and that even though it may seem like I am abandoning you, I still love you more than anything on this earth. Please believe that and please believe that your father also loves you dearly. Hogwarts is different from Brobelswell, Salem, or any other wizarding school. I know that, I was there. It will probably take you time to adjust, but one day you will be thankful for the wonderful friends you will make there. I also feel that I must warn you that Matilda gave birth to a girl whom they named Alexis. Pictures might be sent to you within the next few days._

_I love you so much,_

_Mum_

_P.S.: Mrs. Sainthorp might be sending you another copy of the papers that you so lovingly threw in the fire previously. I just want to remind you that even though I feel it is the right thing to do, nobody is forcing you to sign and it is still your choice. _

_P.P.S.: Please do not reply to this message; this owl isn't mine and won't find me once I get on the move again tomorrow morning. I will inform you as soon as I find Butterball again, or once I secure another owl. _

Taylor stared at the note in front of her. It was almost funny how she could pick out the sugarcoated parts of her mother's monologue. For example, she would only have found out about Alexis's birth through a newspaper or some distant cousin of Taylor's father. He himself wouldn't have contacted her. And of course, the peace she was feeling seemed to be so rare and unique because her life was previously filled with such turmoil. As for the overbearing amounts of love stamped all over the text, Taylor didn't know whether to feel adored, smothered, or both.

-

He was one table over to her right. She had noticed him immediately upon entering the cold dungeon and without thinking took the seat at the next desk, next to Amelia, a sweet yet somewhat cynical girl from Ravenclaw and Taylor's roommate. As soon as the class was settled in and the loud chatter was reduced to garbled murmers, she started to worry. At first, it seemed to be a good idea to sit next to the boy who so entranced her, but now that it was quiet and he was barely arms reach away, she got nervous. What if she embarrassed herself? What if he would turn out to be a complete arse? She allowed these thoughts to swirl in her mind for some time before a cold, silky voice seemed to reach right into her head and stop her very thoughts from forming.

"Good afternoon." The voice started. Looking up at the source of the smooth sound, she saw it was a terribly pale, tall man with a hooked nose over which he looked down at the students. "This is your fifth year, and I expect that by now most of you know how to put together a simple Drowsiness Draught without causing anything to explode or anyone to die in the process." He paused. "Get to work."

Taylor and Amelia quickly got to work, chopping ingredients and stirring everything carefully in a small cauldron.

"So," Taylor started. "What do you know about that boy sitting to my right?" She muttered. She didn't want to reveal any interest in him, but at the same time her curiosity kept pulling at her whenever she was in his presence.

Amelia quickly glanced over to see who she was talking about before responding in an equally low tone "Oh, that's Draco Malfoy," she said as she used a pair of tongs to carefully remove what looked like a large, glowing jelly bean from a jar. "He's in _Slytherin,_" She added in a derogatory tone. "Pureblood, obviously. Pride and joy of the narcissistic and almighty Malfoys. A mini-Death Eater, if you will." She explained as she sprinkled a blue powder into the cauldron and watched the liquid boiling away in it turn blood-red.

"Why?" She added more slyly.

"Oh, nothing. I just, you know…" She couldn't stop the blush from spreading over her cheeks.

"Yeah." Amelia said quietly as she looked closely into the cauldron, contemplating whether or not it was time to stir it.

As soon as Taylor looked away from her potions book, she found herself looking directly into Draco's eyes again. There was a sort of sensation at the pit of her stomach as though she were falling, and it seemed as though that tormenting, empty color had suddenly grown big enough to fill her whole field of vision, the room, the castle, even the sky. This time, though, she didn't have an excuse to not say anything; there was hardly any distance between them.

For a moment, she hesitated. There was something so terrible in the coldness of his eyes, something broken. Taylor couldn't help but wonder if he saw the same in hers. She waited a moment too long, though, because he turned away from her and back to his work. They hadn't been staring at each other for more that five seconds, but Taylor seemed to lose all track of time when faced with nothing but endless, colorless, cold grey.

_Hi. I'm Taylor. _Why didn't she say it? It was right on the tip of her tongue, and she hesitated. And he turned around. For some reason, it was upsetting.

-

"What are you doing?" Amelia asked as she glanced over at Taylor, tearing her eyes away from her Ancient Runes essay for the first time in an hour.

Taylor suddenly felt the impulse to hide the note she kept looking over.

"Uh, Potions homework." She mumbled as she turned to the book spread out in front of her.

"All right." The suspicion in her voice was almost tangible. "Well, tell me when you get to the Herbology assignment. I can't make heads or tails of it."

"Sure." Taylor responded, though her eyes had already wandered back to the dry piece of parchment.

_Taylor dear,_

_I expect your mother already told you, but Matilda had a girl on October 29. We named her Alexis. I'm sending over some pictures and a little something from home. _

_Love, _

_Dad_

Part of Taylor wanted to scoff and another wanted to cry as she read over the note yet again. Five weeks since she'd last seen him. Five. She'd counted. And all she got was this miniscule note and a few generic photos of her father snuggling a stranger's baby.

Oh, and of course, a Suthergrout necklace. Only the best American jeweler known to the wizarding world. Only the best for dear little Taylor. Rubbish. She turned the silver chain supporting the round locket over in her hand. She thought about putting it on, but couldn't bear the thought of the evil metal touching her neck. She couldn't bear the thought of anything from her father being that close to her. Instead, she placed it into the side pocket of her suitcase, which she stowed away under her bed. For a few moments, she wanted to confide in Amelia, but then she thought about her possible reactions; either telling Taylor to toughen up and get through it, or give her some pity and let Taylor cry into her shoulder. She wanted neither.

She wanted grayness. She wanted to look into those disturbing eyes, and forget about everything, and be a small, insignificant part of him rather than face things alone. As soon as she admitted that there was nobody she would rather pour her heart out to, the fact hit her hard. She liked him. A lot.

-

"Oh. My. God." A beautiful girl in deep green, velvet robes said as she looked evilly at a slightly younger Taylor.

"No. You guys, it's not like that." She tried to respond, but her small voice was only interrupted and choked out.

"Well then technically, you don't belong here." The girl who spoke first said as though she was just figuring that out. "Oh, but don't worry," she quickly added, "We won't tell anybody."

A malevolent grin was pulling at the girl's lips, but Taylor could tell that she wasn't doing a very good job at hiding it.

-

A small sniff come from the other side of the door that Taylor was pressing her ear up against.

"Mother…" The man's tone was sympathetic, but with a slightly threatening edge.

"Don't. Oh, the shame this will put us through!" A woman's cracked and small voice was barely audible on the other side of the door. Taylor was almost sure the woman sobbed.

"Mom, it wasn't her fault." The man offered, but with no response.

"Please, Mrs. Sainthorp, try to understand. She didn't-" another woman's voice started after a short pause.

"GET OUT!" The first woman interrupted in a screeching voice. Taylor ran down the hall and disappeared behind a corner just as the door opened and a proud-looking woman that looked to be around thirty five stepped out.

-

-

-

**Guys, seriously, if you got this far into the story then you must have some sort of interest in it, so tell me about what you think! **


	4. Chapter 4

_Taylor – _

_I am not writing to you to inquire why you would disrespect me enough to do away with the previous copy of these papers, which you very well know took me quite a bit of effort to procure on such short notice. For that matter, I am finished with trying to rid you of that pestilence within you that some may foolishly refer to as strength. Strength is not resisting reasonable offers with all of one's might. It is being wise enough to accept that not everything will go one's way, and make the proper agreements when the time comes for them. But enough with that; I now finally realize what sort of strength you possess, and know that it is impossible to sooth it. Instead, I ask you to consider making one sane decision in your life, one that you very well know will benefit you and the family as a whole in the long run. _

_- Mrs. Sainthorp_

-

Taylor quickly glanced over the note she'd received from a majestic white owl at breakfast. When she saw the beautiful, snowy bird flying toward her, she went numb with dread as she recognized old Williams. She took the note from the owl and sent him away without any form of thanks. He bit her, true to form. No wonder Taylor's grandmother loved him so much.

Now, in the privacy of her room, she was so filled with hate that she didn't even want to go in-dept into the perfectly neat writing across the expensive parchment. From what she'd read, it was the same old dribble from dear grandma. She didn't even unroll the other documents – she already knew what was in them and wasn't interested.

-

"All right, does anybody know who performed the first successful apparition and when?" Professor Binns asked from the head of the class.

Taylor's hand tentatively went up into the air.

"Miss Sainthorp?"

"I think it was Alexander Trape in 1335."

"Good. Very good."

Suddenly Draco turned to face her from two desks over. As soon as she noticed him, she caught bright lightning flashing through the two stormy skies.

"Sainthorp, you said?" He said in a loud whisper as his whole facial expression changed, and the grey of his eyes was suddenly soft and inviting, all the hard edges gone.

Taylor smiled uneasily. Amelia was right. He really was a pureblood.

Draco smiled at her warmly and turned back to his work.

-

"I believe my father had ties with your father. We've even had him and his wife over to dinner several times. I had no idea you were their daughter. I'm Draco. _Malfoy._ I'm sure you heard the name before." The silver coins that were his eyes were full of so much pride; Taylor almost wanted to look away in disappointment at his shallowness. Almost.

Actually, Taylor never really discussed business with her father, but she nodded anyway. "Pleasure to meet you." She simply stated.

"Likewise." He responded as he shook her hand.

"What do you have next?"

"Uh…" Taylor pulled out her schedule, "Transfiguration."

"That's on the way to Herbology. I'll walk you."

-

"Wait, wait. He walked you to class?" Amelia was looking at Taylor as though she was a mother that just discovered her child stealing cookies from the jar.

"Well, I mean, it was on the way to his next class." She blushed.

Amelia crossed her arms over her chest.

"Um, well…oh, all right. So I like him a tiny little bit." She exclaimed in frustration. "Kill me, why don't you."

Amelia scoffed and leaned back against her headboard, her arms still crossed. "I knew it. What is it about him, his…pigheadedness? His…purebloodedness? That's why Pansy liked him. Hell, that's why everyone in Slytherin liked him and, well, gave him head."

"What?!"

"Well, you didn't really think that a gem like him was any virgin, did you?"

When Taylor stopped to think about it, no, she wouldn't have guessed he was a virgin, but she just never really thought about it.

"No, I just…" She shifted uncomfortably on her bed. "It's his…oh, God, it's so stupid."

"Tell me. Right now." Amelia demanded.

"His eyes."

Amelia burst out in laughter. "Well, that's a first." She was about to open her mouth to laugh again but saw the hurt in Taylor's eyes. "I mean, it's kind of cute. It's just, Draco isn't the sort of boy that you love for his eyes. He's no starving poet or anything like that."

Taylor chuckled and threw a pillow at Amelia with all her force, making her start laughing all over again.

"Be careful, though." She said when she finally re-composed herself. "I mean, like whoever you want, but don't, er, _get _with him. It won't end well. Even if you are as much a pureblood as he is."

Amelia turned back toward writing a letter to her mother, but she was waiting for Taylor to comment on her 'pureblood' remark. Taylor knew this but still kept silent. Everybody could assume whatever they wanted, but she was fine with keeping things a secret for now.

-

_Dear Taylor,_

_All right, so as you can tell, I found Butterball. I'm in Bulgaria, near Durmstrang. Well, what is there to say? It's cold. I'm bored senseless. As soon as you send Butters back, I'm leaving. Not sure where I'm going, though. Anyway, darling, how is school so far? I haven't had any word from you since August. Tell me what's going on. Did your father send the photos yet? If not, I can always send you a copy._

_I love you so much,_

_Mum_

Taylor read through the letter thoroughly before she systematically pulled it apart. Aside from her mother's conspicuous little hints to get any information possible about her ex-husband and desperate pleas to connect with a very distant daughter, there didn't seem to be any obvious glossed-over bits.

-

_Mom – _

_School is fine. I'm meeting plenty of people and the workload is manageable. I got sorted into Ravenclaw, and everybody here has been really sweet to me. Lots of interesting backgrounds and beliefs here. _

_I love you mom,_

_Taylor_

-

Taylor rolled up the scribbled response and attached it to the small, brown awl's leg. She felt bad about shutting her mother out the way she was, but at the same time the rebellion within her was still alive, still flickering, and still begging for attention.

-

"Mommy, does Gramma love daddy?"

"Of course she does, sweetie."

"Does Gramma love you?"

There was a pause.

"Eh, Taylor, that's a bit complicated. Do you want any ice cream?"

"Does Gramma love me?"

The woman sighed. "I think it's best if you call her Mrs. Sainthorp, dear."

"Okay, Mommy. I'll have that ice cream." There was a pause as Taylor watched her treat being scooped into a small china bowl. "So does _Mrs. Sainthorp_ love me?" She persisted.

"Love is a little different for everybody, darling. You'll learn more about it as you grow older." The woman planted a kiss on Taylor's forehead and quickly left the room.


	5. Chapter 5

"So, how's the budding romance?"

Taylor scoffed and rolled her eyes. "At least I have some sort of interest in somebody else. I don't see you even trying to get anybody's attention."

Amelia snapped her book shut as though offended. "As a matter of fact, there is one such person."

"Tell me. Right now." Taylor mimicked.

"His name is Steven. He's a seventh year. God, he's gorgeous."

"Point him out at breakfast tomorrow."

"All right, all right. Now back to _your _love muffin-"

"Oh, God…"

"Don't worry I'm not making fun of you." She said sarcastically. "How much do you see each other?"

"Well, we have one or two classes together per day, depending on the day. In Potions, I see him a lot because he's right there, but for History of Magic he's two desks over. He walks me to my next class and sometimes stops to talk to me if we pass each other in the halls. Now, about this Steven…"

Amelia groaned. "Forget about Steven. I'll worry about Steven."

Taylor sat quietly for a moment. "He's in Ravenclaw, right?"

"Yes."

"Does it happen a lot here – inter-house relationships?" Taylor asked apprehensively.

"Not that much, but yes, it happens. Taylor, I'm telling you, don't put too much faith in Malfoy. He…he's not a very…caring…boyfriend, you know?"

"Not really."

Amelia sighed. "All his relationships end because he puts so much stock in what his family says. Also, he's sort of a jerk."

Taylor looked at her friend curiously. "Do you know this from, er, 'experience'?"

Amelia laughed loudly. Perhaps a bit too loudly. "No. Trust me he's not my type."

-

"So, did you finish Binns's essay yet?" Taylor asked for lack of anywhere better to start a conversation.

"No, but I don't care very much about History of Magic." He replied nonchalantly.

"Oh? And what do you care about?"

Draco shrugged. "Potions," he started.

_No surprise there. _Taylor thought to herself, somewhat bitterly.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Transfiguration." He continued. "Oh, and maybe Charms, a little, though it's a skill more relevant to women than men." He added. Taylor felt a quick rush of aggression rise in her at his sexism; he obviously held the old-fashioned belief that Charms was for women, to take care of the home, but quickly pushed those thoughts out of her mind.

"I don't mind History, actually. I sorta have a knack for it."

Draco chuckled.

"What?"

"'sorta'" He mimicked her American accent.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Taylor put on an exaggerated British accent. "Is this better? How about a spot of tea later?"

Draco laughed.

There was a pause. Then suddenly, there was something warm wrapped around her wrist. Taylor felt as though she wouldn't be able to contain her excitement as his hand gently took her slender arm and then worked his way down to her hand. She could hardly believe it. She could suddenly appreciate the emptiness of the hall they were in, glad to have the privacy.

Taylor didn't even get to form a shy smile, though, because before she knew what was going on, his soft lips were on hers. Fireworks were going off inside her. She wanted to scream in happiness. Apprehension filled her and she felt like she could fly. He, on the other hand, seemed so relaxed and experienced in these matters as his arms wrapped around her waist. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Taylor knew they were late for Potions, but decided that she would rather face Snape than end the kiss. After several minutes, he deepened the kiss and she took a step back as he increased the pressure on her. She barely had to think about what she was doing before her arms worked their way up around his neck. Soft smacking and clicking noises reached her ears whenever their lips shifted positions. Every now and then, Taylor could hear the soft pattering of feet against some distant marble staircase, and a sense of thrill ran through her every time the thought occurred to her that they might be discovered.

Finally, they broke away from each other, no telling how much later. Taylor was breathing hard from the electric feeling running through her. She was looking up at him, bright-eyed and speechless, and he just smirked knowingly, yet somewhat warmly, down at her. Without another word, they hurried off to Potions.

Amelia didn't stop staring at Taylor suspiciously for the twenty last minutes of Potions that she and Draco were able to get to.

-

"All right. I already know that something happened between you and Malfoy. Don't even _try_ to deny it. Now tell me exactly what it was."

Taylor blushed despite her expectance of the question.

"We sort of just…you know…kissed."

Amelia smiled, though Taylor got the impression that she was suppressing a smirk. "And…go on?"

"What? That's it." Taylor said innocently.

"Oh, come on. Where?"

"Fourth floor hallway, near Transfiguration."

"Well…if you're happy…" Her voice was distant and she sounded preoccupied. Taylor wasn't about to let her drift back into the sea of homework on her lap.

"Did you talk to him yet?" Taylor asked slyly as she glanced over the top of the History homework on her knees.

"Yuuup." Amelia slowly responded as she skimmed her essay.

"Really? What happened?" Taylor was suddenly excited.

Amelia dropped her essay and moved it aside. "All right. So I go up to him when I see him, we make small talk and I just…asked him out."

Taylor was astounded. "How?!"

"What do you mean – 'how'? I just did. We're going to Hogsmead together Sunday."

Taylor instantly wanted nothing more than to go to Hogsmead with Draco.

-

"Mom, tell me the truth. Is this…is all this because of Mrs. Sainthorp?"

The woman next to Taylor in the warm carriage sighed and looked out the window. "I wish I could say it is, darling. But it's not. It was just a bit too soon for us and…I was young, Taylor. I was so young and so easily taken with the handsome, charming American. He was so romantic and…" The woman seemed to lose herself to daydreams for a few moments before regaining her composure. "It all happened in a flash before my eyes and we…rushed. We were married before the date my parents were expecting me back in London." She took a deep breath before quickly adding, "Of course, I don't regret it. Any of it. Everything was worth it for you."

Right at that moment, Taylor was finding that hard to believe.

-

"Tell me about Salem." His soft voice cooed. His tone conveyed that he had been waiting for a long enough pause in their conversation to bring it up.

An icy chill ran through Taylor. "What do you want to know?" She asked, trying to keep the cold out of her voice.

"Everything. I mean, I can't believe your parents didn't let you stay. All the best American wizards came-"

"-from Salem."

"Why did you leave it?"

Taylor hesitated. "Because, it wasn't quite right. Family…stuff."

"Oh. All right. I kind of know the feeling of not fitting in where you're supposed to fit in."

Taylor sighed. She wanted very badly to probe into that statement, but knew it would be too nosy. If only he really knew why she 'didn't fit in' at Salem.

"Still. The idea the school is founded on is…admirable; if more schools only admitted purebloods, people would be less likely to marry the scum of the wizarding world." Thankfully, he didn't notice Taylor turn bright red with anger and embarrassment. "My family has been wanting them to open a school in Britain for years. My father would have sent me all the way to America if it weren't for my mother."

Taylor tried to imagine Draco at Salem. The thing that upset her most about the mental image was how well he would have fit in. Still, the statement of not fitting in where he was supposed to haunted her. Maybe he had a side that nobody else knew about.

"Well, this is me." She stopped outside McGonagall's classroom.

"Yeah." He turned to face her to say goodbye, and there were his eyes.

Any distance that Taylor felt between them faded into those eyes. God, how unhealthy it was to fall into his grey eyes every time she looked into them. Somehow, she couldn't help the warm smile that spread all over her face as she closed the distance between them and she felt those lips on hers again.

"I'll see you later."

"Sure."

-

"Mum, I'm not sighing it. I like the name Sainthorp."

"But darling, do you really want your name to represent the ideals of the Sainthorp clan?" She twirled the quill in her hand, showing off how available it was.

"No, mum. He's my father and I want his name."

"But I'm worried about what people will think as soon as they hear your surname, what it will do to the family if they find out about my – and your – blood. Besides, Smith is such a lovely name."

Smith. It sounded so…common…on Taylor's tongue. She didn't want to be a Smith. She wanted to be special, to have a name that commanded respect. Besides, the last thing she wanted to do at that moment was comply with the wishes of her grandmother.

"I'm not sighing."

-

-

-

**All right, guys. You know the deal. I post the chapters, you post the reveiws.**


	6. Chapter 6

Taylor was sitting at the Ravenclaw table at breakfast the next morning when Draco's eyes locked onto hers. Naturally, she couldn't look away and her breath caught in her throat. He smiled warmly and waved her over. Taylor flushed. She didn't want to go sit with Draco and his friends. Somehow, she was under the impression that they would be able to tell that she was no pureblood – and hater her for it. She shook her head and smiled coyly. Draco just waved more frantically. Finally, she couldn't stay in her seat any longer and still seem polite; all his friends were staring at her curiously.

Timidly, she got up and walked over to him.

"Hey." He said as he scooted over to make room for her next to him. "Guys," He said proudly to those around him, "this is Taylor." He took her hand under the table "Taylor, this is Pansy, Daphne, Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott."

"Nice to meet you." Taylor smiled uneasily, hoping it would look cheery. Mumbled 'likewise's came from the Slytherins.

Crabbe and Goyle just looked at her, smirking slightly, their mouths agape, obviously impressed with Draco's latest catch. Pansy, a tiny girl with a plain face and straight black hair looked her up and down several times, smirking, making Taylor feel uncomfortable. Daphne sat frowning at Draco as though confused, and Nott was grinning at Draco as though there was some personal joke at play between them, a sort of telepathic high five. After a few strained moments, though, Taylor was successfully integrated into the conversation and started to feel comfortable.

When everybody left to get to class, Draco leaned over and whispered. "Go to Hogsmead this weekend with me."

Taylor had to restrain herself from screaming out load in joy.

-

It was a chilly Saturday, the first of November, and most students aged thirteen and over were joyously strolling through the small village of Hogsmead. Taylor held onto Draco's hand, grinning at the quaint surroundings, entranced by the small, old-fashioned shops. Draco was leading her around, showing her the best places to get drinks (namely, where the bartender let underage kids order firewhiskey), the joke shop, the candy store, and even led her quickly past the store called "Shadey's Cigars"; a little cigar shop with an even smaller supply of condoms and the like in the basement.

Taylor smirked. "Bet you can't wait to get me in there…"

Draco laughed. "Hell, why wait? Let's go now." He joked back.

Taylor hit his arm playfully and gasped. "What kind of girl do you take me for?!"

Draco shrugged "A fun one."

Taylor laughed and hit him again, harder this time. "Ass."

Draco grasped his arm as though he'd been shot and winced dramatically. Taylor rolled her eyes. "Drama queen."

He laughed again.

It was a cute relationship, exactly what Taylor wanted – nothing serious, no awkward and deep conversation, just having fun and enjoying each other's company.

-

"You know, Taylor, the thing that really scared me was that after a while I completely fell in love with the lifestyle, and tried hard to fit in with them. They were polite, but never completely accepted me. I guess some part of me knew it all along, too. Oh, God. Life was just such a mess…in those years. Not because of your father and not only because of Mrs. Sainthorp, but because I didn't know what I wanted, and I really screwed myself over.

-

_Taylor, darling_

_It's dad. I miss you so much here. I hope that you'll visit over Christmas, if your mother doesn't claim you first. I don't know if you'll believe this, but your grandmother misses you too. Business is going pretty well, and Matilda's girl is growing up so well. Also, the Branches's girl declared her engagement yesterday. Can you imagine; she's probably two years older than you and getting married. Other than that, things have been quiet and boring. I hope you write back soon; I miss you immensely, and Matilda would love to see you._

_Lots and lots of love,_

_Daddy_

-

Taylor didn't want to go back to America, ever, let alone over Chistmas. Her grandmother would never in a million years miss her. Taylor's dad knew very well that his daughter didn't give a damn about how "business is going" or the Branches's girl. If anybody from the American pureblood society said that things were "boring and quiet", it meant some huge scandal had just broken out. Matilda would probably be very content with never hearing from Taylor again. And why isn't just "love, Dad" enough to end the list of lies?

-

-

Three Months Later

-

"So," Amelia started casually, "are you a pureblood or not?"

"Why do you ask?" Taylor frowned. She knew there was practically nothing to lose in telling Amelia the truth – the girl was no pureblood, not to mention that Taylor trusted her – but there was a fear deeply ingrained in her since childhood of talking about her blood.

"I just want to know." She pretended to be absorbed in her cat's ginger fur, but Taylor could tell that Amelia was watching her closely.

"Well, it's complicated."

"That much I knew already."

Taylor sat still and quiet for a while before finally opening her mouth. Her words started coming out slowly, laboriously, before Taylor got into her rant and couldn't stop talking even if she wanted to.

"My mom met my dad when she was on a business trip in America. They fell in love and she eagerly stayed in the States for him. They eloped, and it was all very romantic until my grandmother found out that her prized pureblood son married somebody muggle-born. My dad stood by my mom, though, and in two months she was pregnant. I grew up pretty well – my parents loved me and everything, but my grandmother couldn't stand the sight of me. When it was time for me to go to school they sent me to the predictable, big school in America – Brobelswell. Well, that is until my second year, when my grandmother used her connections to get me into Salem. That obviously didn't last, though, but by the time they found out that I wasn't pure, my grandmother had finally gotten to my parents and they were getting a divorce. So I returned from Salem after getting expelled, spent two weeks with my dad, then got shipped off to London, where I spent a month with my mother's family before she started traveling and I came here."

"Wow."

-

_Taylor, I don't know how it happened, but I'm back in Greece. God, I love it here. I'm meeting all sorts of interesting people and just wanted to check in with you. Also, I don't know if you read the British wizarding paper, The Daily Prophet, but Lord Voldemort (the one I told you about in the carriage) is attacking more and more frequently in England. (Don't worry, though. There is no way for him to approach Hogwarts). I miss you, dear. Please write back._

_Mum._


End file.
